All Over Again
by Duath
Summary: Random oneshots that take place both before and after Voldemort's defeat.


_Disclaimer: I do not own any Harry Potter characters. Or Harry Potter places. Or the original Harry Potter plot line._

_This is a series of oneshots that take place both before Lord Voldemort's defeat and afterward. These will have a slightly different set up than my usual stories. Also some of these **may** contain slash. As these are oneshots that aren't linked together it doesn't matter if a chapter is skipped. If I do have any of the chapters contain slash they will be labeled as such in an AN so they can be avoided by those who have no wish to read them._

_This chapter contains **NO Slash.** But there are jokes about the character being gay. You have been warned._

**_Hopes for Forgiveness_**

_July 10, 1999. Noon, Saturday_

Wiping away the sweat on his forehead he cringed as he read the letter one last time before entering the small, sunny cafe. He understood why the one who he had contacted had reason to be wary of his intentions but seeing it written down was like taking an arrow to the heart.

_I don't know what you could have to say to me but I am willing to at least hear you out. Do not think that I am going to overlook your past transgressions. I don't like you and I doubt that is about to change. However if you truly need to talk, whether to confess or to damn me, so be it. Know this, I am no friend of yours._

_Meet me at the Lumière Cafe at West End in London at noon on July 10. If you are not there at that time I will be leaving no matter how important you think the subject of your request might be._

No address, no signed name. Most would be suspicious of that but he expected it. In fact he would have been surprised if he had received such a courtesy.

He glanced around the crowded room and shifted nervously. He hadn't wanted there to be people around when he bared his soul but, looking back, if he hadn't been such a fool in the first place he wouldn't have needed to do this at all.

He spied a clock above the order counter and sighed in relief. He had arrived a few minutes early.

"Sir, would you like help finding an open seat?"

He blinked and focused on the pretty, young blond that had seen fit to invade his personal space. The predatory look in her eyes was worrying him. He didn't need this on top of everything else in his life.

"I'm looking for someone." He tried to smile but he didn't feel like he was succeeding. By the sour expression the waitress was sporting he decided that that was an accurate assumption for him to have made. Or maybe it was because she thought he was here for a girlfriend.

"Well a lot of people are here right now but I'll see what I can do." She brushed her long blond hair back over her shoulder. "Who are you looking for?"

He was about to respond when someone else cut in.

"He's here to see me, Mable."

He turned to his right to see the one he had come to meet.

Standing only five feet away was an eighteen year old Harry Potter dressed in black muggle jeans and tee shirt. He didn't look to pleased to be at such a crowded place, or maybe it was being in the presence of someone he should by all rights hate.

The waitress let loose a gasp. "You aren't, you know, together, are you?"

He could feel his face flushing a bright red that he knew clashed horribly with his hair. Potter merely appeared exasperated, almost as if he got that reaction often.

"No, Mable, we are not 'together.'" Now he sounded amused. "I told you I have no intention of being with anyone. Deal with it."

Potter turned toward the exit and motioned for him to follow. They left the cafe swiftly and made their way down the busy street. He was glad that they weren't going to hold the meeting in a crowded place like that but know he didn't know where they were going. He hated not knowing things.

"Sorry about that back there." He blinked, why should Potter apologize for someone else's actions?

"There's no need, Potter."

"So I'm just Potter?" Potter glanced over at him with a frown. He noticed that the green eyed man next to him had streaks of white in his coal black hair. He also looked far more worn, as if he had seen far too much in his life. He probably had.

"As you stated in your letter, we are not friends. I believe that first names should be reserved for friends." He gave a small smile, "And I thought that you've been called Mr. Potter by the reporters enough as it is. If you wish to be addressed as another name then tell me and I shall use that."

They were silent after that, simply walking aimlessly down the street. Some people, both women and men, stopped to watch as they passed, most likely drawn by Potter's strange hair and handsome appearance. Potter halted at the base of one of the tall buildings and ushered him through the revolving glass door.

Inside was a moderately wealthy but modest lobby that held several tables and a variety of couches and chairs. Several young teens were lounging about, unwilling to enter the sweltering summer heat outside.

"Hey, Harry." One of them called over but thankfully he didn't approach. Potter gave a slight wave before leading him over to a set of metal doors with a plate next to it with two buttons on them. He didn't get a chance to look closer before Potter pressed on of them. A moment latter the metal doors slid open of their own violation. He blinked at the small room it revealed. Potter entered and gestured for him to do the same.

Inside the room there was a large panel to one side of the doors that had a series of numbers upon it. As the doors shut once more Potter pressed one of the buttons and the room gave a lurch. It wasn't until the doors had opened again to reveal a hallway that he realized that they had just ridden an elevator like those at the ministry. He had to admit that the muggles had the upper hand on these particular devices.

Potter strode out into the hall and lead him to a plain pine door. Opening it the other man waved him inside. Potter shut the door behind him.

They had entered what appeared to be a kitchen but it also seemed to serve as an office of sorts. He glanced around. There wasn't much room to move around in and there was only two chairs at the table.The table itself was piled high with school papers?

He tilted his head in confusion. Why would Potter have school papers lying around when he had already finished at Hogwarts? Potter, seeing what had drawn his attention shrugged.

"I've been taking classes at a local university. Hogwarts really leaves some gaps in the muggle side of education."

He nodded. Maybe he would look into taking classes also.

"So," Potter flopped into one of the chairs and he cautiously sat in the one opposite, "What brings you here? I doubt that you want a blow by blow account of my victory over Voldemort."

He cringed. No he didn't and if only to spare himself from having to hear that name every sentence.

"There were a few reasons..." He paused, uncertain of how to continue. "One of them was, I just wanted to... apologize."

Potter stared at him for a moment before his face twisted in rage. "Mind elaborating on that? Because I don't see why _you _of all people would even bother."

He felt his cheeks begin to burn and it took nearly all his self-restraint to keep himself from simply breaking down. He had been anguishing over this for so long that he couldn't stand not doing something about it.

"I know that I have been cruel to you and that I do not deserve forgiveness but I though that..."

"You thought wrong." Potter cut in his eyes blazing. "I don't care about your apologies or your pathetic pleas for redemption. Do you know how many I have received over the last three months? I have to sort through a crate of mail each morning just to see if my friends sent any letters."

"But then, why?" He was confused now as well as hurt. He couldn't understand.

"Why did I agree to meet you today?" He nodded. "Simple, because out of all the letters I got asking, or in most cases demanding to see me, yours was the only name I recognized. I thought that alone should grant you the option of saying what you will." Potter gave him a particularly savage glare that could have caused his vary soul to shrivel and die. "Now I see that you haven't changed at all. You're just like everyone else.I would like you to leave."

He felt his heart skip a beat in shock. He was being kicked out before he even got a chance to say anything.

"Potter-"

"Now!" He jumped and slipped from his chair to the floor with a thump. The expression on Potter's face would have sent Snape scurrying for cover. It was the look the aurors had seen the young man wearing as he had killed the Dark Lord. It was unbridled fury that would destroy any who got in it's way.

_He- he's going to kill me!_ He whimpered as several tears ran down his cheeks. Potter's face changed but he couldn't see much of how through his watery eyes. The young man took a step toward him and he cried out and sidled backwards until he felt his shoulders hit the wall behind him.

"Don't hurt me, please!" The words came out before he could stop them. He was finding it very difficult to think.

"I'm not going to do anything to you." Potter's blurry figure stepped forward once more and knelt, placing a pale hand on his shoulders. "I didn't mean to act so rashly. I had forgotten how people respond to me when I'm in that state."

His breath rattled in his chest as he slowly got a hold of himself. The atmosphere of danger was quickly dissipating but his heart refused to calm. Potter must really be stressed if he was responding so violently so rapidly.

"No, it's my fault." He cursed himself for arguing. He should have just kept his mouth shut. "I pushed when I shouldn't have."

"Even so," Potter rose awkwardly to his feet and offered him a hand up, which he took after a moment of hesitation. "I should not have acted as I had. It was uncalled for."

He merely nodded. After regaining his balance he glanced to the exit. Did Potter still want him to leave right now? What should he do? Did he want to leave? Potter almost seemed to have read his mind.

"Stay or go, it's your choice." Potter stepped over to a small stove in the corner and turned one of the burners on. He placed a black tea pot on the warming coils and faced him once more. "I promise to do my best at raining in my temper."

"Will you allow me to finish what I started earlier?" Potter nodded. "Then I'll stay for awhile longer."

"Fine." Potter gestured at the table as he began rooting around one of the cupboards for tea cups. "Would you like any tea?"

"Tea's fine." He took his seat once more, still feeling a bit shaken. "May I continue with my reasons for contacting you?"

"As you wish." Potter gave an impatient wave at him over his shoulder.

"There is too much to apologize for separately over the years so I'll sum it all up in one understated sentence; I'm sorry for being such a selfish, egotistical git." A strange noise came from the stove. There was a pause and then Potter burst out laughing. It was quite infectious and soon he found himself joining in.

"You know," Potter said as his laughter died down. "Out of all the people that have come to me seeking forgiveness you are the only one who was willing to admit that you had actually done something to deserve my anger. The rest just treated me like a child that they could hand empty words." The young man glanced over his shoulder and gave a grin. Turning back to his search for the cups he continued, "You said that that was one of the reasons that you wished to speak to me. What were the others?"

"There was only one other," He felt his face heat up. "And that one is a lot more selfish." Potter tilted his head in curiosity. "I was wondering if you could tell me how my family is doing."

Potter stiffened. "Why don't you ask them yourself?"

"They won't want me back. I left them, remember?" He felt the stabbing ache as that old wound reopened. Potter frowned at him.

"The damage you have done to your family ties are not so severe that they can not be mended in time. All you have to do is give them the chance."

He stared. Since when had Potter been so mature?

"Do you know where I can find them?" He received an odd look. "I heard about the raid but no one was injured so..."

"You didn't look into where they ended up?" He nodded. Potter turned around and set a steaming cup of tea in front of him. "I believe that they're in Hogsmeade now. On the road leading up to Hogwarts' gates. You can't miss it."

He nodded and sipped at his tea. Chamomile. He tried to remember what properties it had.

They sat in silence as the finished their drinks. When they were finished he slowly rose from his chair.

"Thank you, Potter." He gave an awkward hand gesture. He really wasn't very good at stuff like this. "It may not seem like much but I needed to get all of that off my chest. I sorry to have to run but I think I'm several years over due a family get together."

Potter laughed. "You're probably right. You can apparate out of here if you want; or would you rather I lead you out?"

"From here is fine." Strange. He thought that Potter of all people would have anti-apparition wards. "Thank you again, Potter."

He was just about to apparate out when Potter called out to him.

"I think that you have deserved the right to call me Harry."

He blinked in shock. A smile spread across his face.

"Thank you for all your help... Harry." And with that he apparated away to Hogsmeade.

* * *

Harry was right. His parents house was impossible to miss; the garden just behind the fence made a jungle look tame. He slipped quietly up the pathway to the open front door._ It's probably sweltering in there if I know mum._ He stuck his head into the entrance hall and was greeted by a waft of hot air. 

"Nothings really changed." Most of the items lying around were new. He smiled at one of the pictures on the wall as he stepped into the room. It was one of the entire family, before he had royally screwed things up.

He walked into the next room and saw his mother standing at the stove preparing an early dinner.

"Honey, could you peel the potatoes on the table? I need to finish up this roast."

He blinked but decided to do as she asked. She seemed quite busy with that right now and he would still be here when she was done.

He was halfway done with his task when his mother turned around to see how he was doing.

"How is it lookin-" She gasped, her brown eyes wide. "What are you doing here?"

He wasn't sure how to take that. It wasn't the loving welcome he had hoped for but then again look at everything he had done over the years.

"I came to apologize, mum." He set down a half peeled potato and faced her fully. "I'm so sorry for everything I've done, mum." He looked at his feet afraid of how his mum might react.

He heard a loud sniff and glanced up to see her crying. She gave a strangled sob as more tears streamed down her round cheeks.

"Don't cry, mum, please." Before he could say any more she lunged forward and caught him in a rib breaking hug.

"My baby. My baby's home." He held here as she cried.

"Dear?" He heard his father call out from another room. "Is everything alright?"

His mother didn't answer, she refused to remove her face from where it was buried against his shoulder. He heard footsteps approaching. How would his father react?

His father entered the room through a door in the corner of the kitchen. He came to a halt when he saw who it was that was in the room with his wife.

"My baby's back." His mum wailed into his shoulder. "He's home again."

His eyes met those of his father's and he gave an uncertain smile. "Hi, dad. I'm home."

With that his father stepped forward and caught both of them up in his embrace. He could see several others standing in the door where his father had come from.

A tall man with scars lining his face.

A shorter one with so many freckles they looked like a tan.

Two identical young men who he had cursed more times than he could remember.

And a young girl with a spray of freckles across her nose.

All of them had bright red hair. Just like him.

They stared at each other for a full minute before the twins rushed forward to join the family hug. The rest weren't far behind.

It was a long time before the group parted. When his mother finally let go of him his father took a hold of his shoulders and gripped them tightly.

"Welcome home, my son."

That inspired another group hug and rounds of joyful laughter.

He was home. Percy Weasley was part of the clan once more.

He had never felt more at peace with the world.

He was forgiven._

* * *

_

_My goodness, where did this come from? I really don't know. Hope you like it. I started this at 11 last night and plowed through it. Now I want an honest reaction to this question: how many of you figured out that it was Percy Weasley before he returned to his family? _

_I might be taking requests for this story. Just give me an event or the name of a person and I'll come up with something._

_Cya around, readers._


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